


This is perfection

by narcissisticSpaghetti



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eridan Ampora/Karkat Vantas - Freeform, Homestuck Alternate Universe, M/M, erikar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissisticSpaghetti/pseuds/narcissisticSpaghetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was inside for all of thirty three agonizing seconds before the door cracked open and she slipped out, silently glancing at your face with a friendly respect and past you down the small hallway. She left the door open behind her, and you closed it with a practiced flick of the lock.</p><p>He sat in the water, mostly clear at this point but the room was full of steam and the crisp scent of soft soap. His short, messy hair was halfway dry and still lightly clung to his forehead as he gazed at you. His face, as always, was difficult to read to any unpracticed outsider but you knew exactly what it was. You mirrored his gaze with much more emotion in your face. Then again, you knew full well you always wore your blood-pusher on your sleeve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is perfection

The look on her face is utter surprise, and you can tell she was not expecting any visitors today. The surprise quickly morphs into a bemused respect and she bows low just behind the door and doesn’t look up at you again. “Highblood,” she signs reverently, “You were not expected. What can I do for you?” She asks with her hands.

You figure it’s best to get it out of the way that this isn’t a business call. “You may stand, really Sheila we have been over this.” You chuckle as she blushes and her hands falter. You never understood why the small jade chose to speak with her hands, but you had enjoyed learning her language every time you were here. “I am here to see him.”

He may not have owned this place, but it was well known that it was rare you would come for anything other than him. The owner of this house, a particularly leisurely purple, allowed you over unannounced and never minded if you never said hello. Of course, you often did, for old time’s sake. He was a good friend to you.

“I believe He is in the bath. Would you care to wait?” Her hands spell out for you, and you smile.

“I don’t think he will mind if I don’t.” And she blushes a faint tint of malachite as she nods and turns to lead the way. You shut the door behind you.

The rest of your journey with Sheila is spent in silence, admiring the high arching ceilings and paintings on the walls you have seen many times before. You have this place memorized like the back of your hand, could imagine walking through these halls in your sleep with terrifying accuracy. You have spent a lot of time in this building.

She knocked quietly on the door, a silent question that obviously meant it was her. His answering call made your heart swell with adoration and anticipation, a slight curiosity as to what she may have wanted. She opened the door and slipped inside, holding up a finger to you to wait until she came out. She didn’t need to, you knew already.

She was inside for all of thirty three agonizing seconds before the door cracked open and she slipped out, silently glancing at your face with a friendly respect and past you down the small hallway. She left the door open behind her, and you closed it with a practiced flick of the lock.

He sat in the water, mostly clear at this point but the room was full of steam and the crisp scent of soft soap. His short, messy hair was halfway dry and still lightly clung to his forehead as he gazed at you. His face, as always, was difficult to read to any unpracticed outsider but you knew exactly what it was. You mirrored his gaze with much more emotion in your face. Then again, you knew full well you always wore your blood-pusher on your sleeve.

You ceased to care as his smile widened and he beckoned you over to him, leaning half out of the tub to reach for your face and pull you into a loving kiss. He is warm and soft beneath your fingers, flushed a bright mutant red, eager and relaxed. His arms are slightly damp as he drags you into the water with him after letting your cape and pants fall to the ablution block floor.

You discard your shirt shortly after entering the water, it’s only damp around the bottom edges. There isn’t any soap in the water anymore, he was just soaking, but the moment your gills open you can taste him everywhere. It’s wonderful.The two of you are content to sit in the water and kiss each other senseless, whispering quiet words of flushed passion and meaningless drivel, promises of pleasure and sighs of contentment.

You didn’t pail then, not in the water, but you were still both thoroughly satisfied by the time you exited the bath. Both your bodies were flushed with happiness and utter joy from what had just transpired. He giggled as you wrapped him dramatically into a large slightly threadbare towel and mussed his hair, giggled as you kissed him the moment his face peeked out from the folds of said cloth, and giggled as you helped him dress.

You followed him to his respite block, nodding at a few others as you passed.

Gamzee’s house was open to any lowblood who wished for safety from the other purples or blues. He may be vicious and a subjuggulator in training, but his matesprite insisted so that was how it was. Tav always had a way with him, bless his soul.

As soon as the door is closed, his lips are on yours again, and you gently push him down on the small pailing platform in the corner. You have no intention of using it for its original purpose just yet but it’s much more convenient a place to make out than in the sopor. Especially just after a bath.

“I’m so very flushed for you, Eridan.” He whispers giddily yet calm in your ear and you gently nip at his own.

“Flushed for you,” You return, again capturing his lips with your own; relish the sound of his breath catching as you run your fingers up his sensitive sides under his thin dark shirt. “Forever and ever, Kar. I promise.” And he bites his lip in the most delicious fashion beneath you.

“Forever and ever,” he repeats, a beautiful noise escaping his lips as you runs your fingers expertly over the sensitive spots you have had two sweeps to memorize.

This is perfection, him spread beneath you, quivering and happy and flushed bright red. He pities you, adores you and you tell him everything that’s happened since the last time you saw him in intimate strokes and passionate kisses. He drinks it in with tiny mewls and other sounds reminiscent of a meowbeast’s purr.

This is perfection, his soft, warm lips brushing against yours and it’s all you can do to keep your sanity when he gets this way. You are both still dressed but you’re both somehow far more naked right now, the raw power of the carnal desire for companionship. For a friend, for a love.

This is perfection, his left hand above his head, gripping at the covers nearby for safely and simple need to hold onto something. His right is gently fisted just above his collarbone and his mouth slightly open in a silent stream of approval for what you are doing. His breathy moans and half-hearted curses spilling free as you kiss him just above his pants, lazily teasing him.

This is perfection, his large, wide eyes on you as you move up to kiss him, nothing else in the world matters to either of you. This is everything but pain, this is nothing but peace.

This is perfection.


End file.
